


Don't Crash in the Fall

by orphan_account



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demons, Drama, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nico has a shower in the van, and that covers all the current drawbacks.--English translation of:Не разбиться в падении





	Don't Crash in the Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Не разбиться в падении](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656857) by [Dakira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dakira/pseuds/Dakira). 



Nico had a shower in the van. A cramped cabin, water with interruptions and excellent audibility — you cannot hide here, you cannot hide from the world and the world cannot hide from you. However, Vergil appreciated even this awkward opportunity to wash off the blood and sweat; to cleanse his body of dirt and at least get some rest.  
  
Dante left first — in such a hurry to see if everything was all right with his favourite Agency — and Vergil stayed. He wanted to think. To try and accept his humanity and his weaknesses, slowly gliding his fingers over his wet ski; he listened to the soft fall of the water, and therefore, immediately heard steps outside. Nero.  
  
“You came after all.”  
  
Vergil was not angry and he had no regrets — the time for bitterness has long gone, all the long goodbyes had been said, and the dead are long buried.  
  
“I... When did you return?” Confused, for a moment, Nero still managed to ask the question. The _w_ _rong_ question.  
  
“Not so long ago. The dust didn’t have time to settle.” Vergil smiled a little. The poetic nature of his answers terribly annoyed Dante and Nero, most likely, will also be quick to complain.  
  
The distance between them was only a meter, maybe a meter and a half, and the spray that wasn't caught by the curtain were probably falling onto Nero's clothes and shoes. Vergil did not turn around, only closed his eyes and tilted his head to one side, measuring the rhythm of the other’s breathing. Nero’s breath was hard and ragged as if he had fled here; as if it wasn’t him who asked to stay there like a useless burden. As if he had not fought so fiercely and desperately that death itself had turned its back on him.  
  
“Why the hell am I the last to know? You've been gone for three months! Three months since that stupid tree fell, and no word from you, no news, no-”  
  
"Stop," Vergil replied, calm, and the steel edge in his voice caused Nero to fall silent mid-sentence. “Leave things to Dante, he's capable of handling them on his own.”  
  
Nero looked down, trembling as he clenched his fists.  
  
“Then again...”  
  
“Do you need another invitation?”  
  
Vergil slowly turned around, looking at Nero through the transparent curtain. You can't hide, you can't hide... But they didn't even need it now.  
  
Spending a few seconds to doubt, Nero quickly threw his gun aside, pulled off his jacket and shoes and not caring about the rest,in this moment, stepped into the shower. His jacket and pants were immediately soaked with moisture, unpleasantly clinging to the body, and the curtain twisted behind him, allowing the drops to fly freely further.  
  
“ _Stay with me, please._ ” Whose lips said that? Whose thoughts became flesh and blood, allowing them to stand face to face and look each other in the eyes? Whose whispers brought down the last barrier between them?  
  
Vergil touched Nero’s cheek, a finger drew a soft line across his lips, a slight movement brushed the tousled hedgehog hair away. Their kisses were shorter than a breath of wind on a hot day, their thirst flaring again and again like a dark fire, and Nero was afraid to break this delicate balance with an extra gesture, an extra word, an extra look.

  
“May I..?” Nero was filled with a strange timidity when he touched Vergil; when he ran his fingers along the line of his collarbones; when he touched his forearms as if carved out of marble; when he put his hand on his chest and heard — _felt_ — the measured beating of his heart.  
  
Everything in his chest had long since turned into fragments, shattered into a million pieces and reassembled — with the knife of the living, with the fire of the dead.  
  
" _You can_ ," answered the look on Vergil’s face, unspoken; _can_ whispered over his thin, scarred lips, confirming his unspoken consent, and his hands lay on top of Nero’s hands, pushing them lower.  
  
Nero panted, fingers clenched convulsively tight; catching drops of water that flow down light eyelashes, and quiet moans are exhaled. Nero fell, and fell, and fell, not knowing where the bottom of this precipice was, and where borders have this precipice and where borders have this freedom. Nero cried and could not utter a sound; only his anxious heartbeat gave him away.  
  
“ _Please_.” Whose lips said that? Whose sky turned upside down and became the earth? Whose body trembled in pre-gasping bliss, forcing to push closer to each other? “ _P_ _lease, please, please..._ ”  
  
Both, they were both here — lurking from the world and hiding from the world within themselves; hiding pain, and fear, and relief from a new meeting. Here, again here, again hand to hand, face to face, skin to skin.  
  
“You can still escape,” Vergil whispered, barely audible; Nero embracing and letting him hug him. “You can still go back.”  
  
Nero smiled, the edge of lips hinted a gesture that came out surprisingly well — and removed the heavy wet strands from Vergil’s face.  
  
“Back to where? I ran away three months ago, but now... I'm home.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this please make sure to drop a kudos on the original Russian work ^^


End file.
